


In the Greenhouses

by flawedamythyst



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: An excessively emo Neville, Gen, PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-28
Updated: 2006-08-28
Packaged: 2018-10-16 08:40:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10567683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flawedamythyst/pseuds/flawedamythyst
Summary: "I like the calm quiet in the greenhouses."





	

I like the calm quiet in the greenhouses. It's not silence – not the cold deadness that comes with the absence of sound – but it's not the noise and confusion of many people all trying to live at once either. No angry shouts, or pain-filled screams, just the rustle of leaves and the drip of water.

I like being here on my own, just me and the plants. When the others are around, they ruin the calm and fill the atmosphere with worried conversations and anxious gestures. I don't need them around; I have the plants. They don't ask me questions, or try to get me to talk. They just gently stroke my face as I go past and hide me from the world.

I love all my plants, but I have favourites. I suppose as a member of Hogwarts' staff, that's no real surprise.

My Mimbulus Mimbletonia was recovered from the remains of Gran's house the day after I realised just what War meant, when I came home to a Dark Mark high in the sky, and empty corpses lying on the ground. It's grown a lot since then, flourishing in the warm, damp atmosphere of Greenhouse 3.

I planted the Marvellously Magical Mullein for Luna. She used to laugh at rainbows without explaining why, so it seemed fitting to remember her with a plant that can create them. She just disappeared one day, like hundreds of others. After all the fighting was done, it became clear she wasn't coming back and would never be found.  


I try to coax a rainbow from it everyday, after watering the Mimbulus Mimbletonia. Usually, it responds with a dazzling display that leaves me almost light-hearted for a precious moment. Some days it refuses and does nothing. I've taken to hiding deep in the depths of the Baffling Bay Tree in Greenhouse 1 on those days.

On one such day, as I hugged my knees safely within the Bay's branches, I overheard two First Years discussing me as they lingered after a lesson.

“He's creepy,” said the first, who looked younger than I can ever remember being. “He just skulks around, all dirty and hairy and muttering to himself. My Mum says it's not normal to have someone like that in a school.”

“She's a Muggle though,” said the other, “she doesn't understand what it was like in the War, and how afraid everyone was. We owe a lot to people like him, the Survivors. He was with Harry Potter, you know, at the end.” He said 'Harry Potter' in a voice of careful reverence and awe. I suddenly remembered Harry as he'd been in the first year, with his over-sized clothes and old-fashioned glasses. The slightly surprised and inane grin he got when someone complimented him.

The students wandered off to their next lesson, the first saying, “I don't understand how someone who was with Harry Potter could end up living as a crazy hermit in a greenhouse.”

There are three Giant Cobra Lilies in Greenhouse 5. It's the smallest that's my favourite, that reminds me of Harry. It's the most stubborn, and never stops trying to best the other two when it comes to feeding time. Harry went down fighting, of course. After he'd finished You-Know-Who, every Death Eater who'd been truly loyal attacked him. We all stood by him and did our best, but when the noise and confusion was over, he lay dead amidst the bodies of both enemies and friends, including Ron. Only a few of us were still standing.

Ginny was distraught. She's a Survivor too, of course, to use their horrible phrase for those who remained alive long after they should be dead. She Survives in a quiet, white room with a strong lock on the door.

Hermione tells me of her progress when she visits sometimes, sitting quietly on a bench while I stay amongst the plants. Hermione's possibly the only one of us to have escaped the title, probably by gaining so many others – President of SPEW, Chairperson of the Campaign For Werewolf Rights, Founding Member of the Equality in Wizarding Society Association. She's dedicated her life to campaigning, to making the Wizarding World worthy of Harry and Ron's sacrifice. She planted Ron's tree herself, not far from the Giant Cobra Lilies, an Alder. When she visits, she usually spends a few minutes silently next to it, and I know she's looking for comfort. The plants are good at providing it, so I leave her in peace with them.


End file.
